Fricken Dickens!
by angelofjoy
Summary: Chuck decides to have a little seasonal fun, while Sam and Dean just try and have some time to themselves to hunt; you know, the family business?
1. Another Christmas In Another Motel

_**Fricken Dickens!**_

 _ **A/N: Tis the season for a good old fashion christmas miracle! Here is the first chapter of what I hope to be a sweet little story i can finish in then next 7 or so weeks. Wish me luck and let me know if you like what you've read so far!**_

Chapter 1: Another Christmas In Another Motel

Dean awoke with a start, sweat pouring down his face as his breath caught in his throat. Even now, as he blinked his eyes to focus them, the horrors of the dream were so real, etched on his eyelids, that he could still feel the pressure of the hand on his body and the weapons piercing his skin.

As he relaxed, in the realization that it was only a dream, he felt a presence in the room, deep in the depths of the bunker, and the panic and fear, was upon him once more.

"Hello Dean," a voice beside him spoke in the darkness.

"What the hell Chuck?" Dean grumbled as he reached for the beside lamp but before he could touch it the light turned on.

"That was quite the nightmare you had," Chuck commented conversationally. "I'm sure it's not the only one of it's kind. Time in hell, time with the mark, time with Michael, all perfect for the construction of subconscious turmoil."

"Rummaging around in my head, were you?" Dean asked and fell back into his pillow.

"I'm God, I can do anything," Chuck said and smiled. "I'm a little surprised though, that that was the nightmare. Haven't you gotten over that?"

"In general, do people just get over their time in hell?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"People don't get out of hell, so I suppose not," Chuck responded. "It's interesting though, to think about it, and when you've been through so much. Is it always hell, or do you have other bad dreams?" He asked.

"When did you become my shrink?" Dean asked as he propped himself up on his elbows. "God, fine, but you're not the one I want trying to figure me out."

"Isn't that the most fascinating thing about humans? The phycology of it all? Sure, I made you and I made everything, but there is a plan and prescribed way of things until that moment when you exit into the world and land on your feet, well within the first eight to twelve months. I have nothing to do with any of that after you're born, it's you learning," Chuck said. "And from there, creation is all on you. Brilliant, right?"

"Sure, whatever you say," Dean sighed. "Where's Sam?" He asked to change the subject.

"He's asleep. Let him sleep," Chuck said and the light flickered off again. "I'm here to talk to you."

"I'd like a good nights sleep for once in my life," Dean sighed. He was halfway out of bed but reluctant. "What couldn't have waited until morning?" He asked and he rubbed his head and tried to push the horrible dream from his mind knowing full well it was just one of many.

"I think you know," Chuck responded as he stood, walked around the bunker bed and sat down next to Dean. "Another Christmas in another motel?" He asked. "Is that really what you want?"

"No, but we have to work and we found a case, so Sammy and I will hit the road in the morning," Dean answered.

"So that you have time to check into a dump and ignore the wonder and awe of the holiday created by man to celebrate me?" Chuck asked. "It wasn't my idea, but I love it. Christmas is great! You're so lucky to have Christmas to celebrate and most of the time you and Sam just ignore it."

"I'm lucky to have this Christmas in whatever motel room or dwelling on this planet this year, no thanks to you," Dean whispered harshly and stood. He walked a slow circle around the dark room and then stopped and in the darkness looked at Chuck. "Lucky is the last word I'd choose for this but if you say I'm blessed, I'll kill you," he added.

"It's snowing," Chuck said with a smile. "Put some cloths on. Let's go for a walk."

"It's the middle of the night!" Dean almost yelled but knew that, even though it was a concrete bunker the walls within were very thin, so he stopped himself.

"It's beautiful at night," Chuck said. "Come on, humour me. I'm God."

"No!"

Chuck shook his head, the lights came on again, and he turned to leave.

"Where the hell were you?" Dean asked in disbelief. "I prayed. I know you heard me."

"Michael has his talons pretty tight into you, but yes, I heard you," Chuck said. "Your brother and his motley crew found you. The Impala, your mother, your brother, they pulled you out. It was always meant to happen that way. In this work and in that world, and in all worlds where Michael comes face to face with Dean Winchester. I couldn't help you because Michael, both from this world and that one, and every one in which I am God, has no idea that I am God and that's the way these things have to stay."

"You're archangels can't tell by looking at you?" Dean asked knowing it wasn't true. "Lucifer knew," he accused.

"Lucifer needed to know," Chuck said. "But the others don't; not Michael or Gabriel, or even Raphael if he was alive in any worlds, which he's not."

"Then why do we know?" Dean asked.

"Because you are blessed," Chuck said and winked. "But you've been through a lot and you've lost your faith in me, in yourself, all you believe in is Sam and well, I need you back on the right path. Time for a good old fashioned Christmas miracle," he added and before Dean could protest, Chuck reached out and touched his forehead and zapped him away from the snowy night in rural Kansas.


	2. A Christmas First

_**A/N: Thank you to everyone who commented or PMed me about this story. I am so grateful for all of the positive feedback. Here is chapter two.**_

Chapter 2: A Christmas First

"What the hell Chuck! Put me back in the bunker!" Dean demanded as he shivered with cold as he stood barefoot on the street before his childhood home.

"I told you to put some cloths on," Chuck said and shrugged. "And now it's too late. This Christmas Carol has begun."

"It's not too late! You are God, snap me back to bed now!" Dean demanded.

"I'll snap you dressed but that's all I'll do," Chuck said and with a snap, as promised, though he didn't need to do it, Dean had shoes, socks, and attire fit for a short jaunt, but not adequate for the snow.

"Why are we out front of my childhood home?" Dean grumbled, he was still cold, chilled right through as he pulled the flannel shirt closed and blew his warm breath into his cold hands.

"This is the story of Christmas past. Your Christmas past," Chuck said excitedly. "I love Dickens!"

"Why?" Dean asked.

"Shouldn't you be asking me when?" Chuck asked and it was clear that he was frustrated with Dean's lack of interest.

"No, why works for me. Why do we have to do this Dickens style? Why can't you just tell me what you need to tell me and be done with it?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Chuck asked saucily. "I created this world to have a little fun and you are being a huge killjoy right now. Would you get more into it if I looked like a creepy little dancing light, floating through the snow or a ghost rattling it's chains?"

"I'd he hunting the ghost and a bucket of water should do just fine for a creepy little light. But fine, I'll get into it, when is this glorious, snowy Christmas oh ghost of Christmas past?" Dean asked with so much sarcasm that even Cas would have cringed.

"This is Christmas Eve 1978 and John and Mary Winchester are blissfully counting down the days to the birth of their first son. What a Christmas it was," Chuck said, ignoring all of Dean's sass.

"What, seriously?" Dean jumped, spun in a circle, and looked back at the house. The Impala was in the driveway. The lights were on, and beyond the gossamer like curtain he could spy a brightly coloured Christmas tree. Shadows of people moved about the room, and suddenly if felt something like a bright and hopeful Christmas.

"Yes Dean, one month from now, on a night not so different from this one, you will make a screaming entrance into this world. For now you are snug inside your mother, an active little tyke that is kicking and bunching her with every stretch and movement. The whole pregnancy she's craved pickles and peanut butter, and you make her sick every time she eats vegetables. She's living on bacon and pie, and you wonder why you love those so much. She's been joking that you're a fighter. John believes she's talking about boxing, and he's insisting on baseball, but really, at the back of her mind, she's thinking of her family business. Not that she want's that for you, but you've been such an active baby, she can't help but think it," Chuck said and watched as Dean ran up the drive to peek in the window.

He smiled to himself as he walked along to join him and Dean was finally completely committed to the Christmas adventure.

"She's as big as a house!" Dean said. "And dad looks so young."

"They are young," Chuck commented.

"Yeah, I know, but there is a way I remember my dad," Dean said.

"And you've seen his younger self. You choose to remember John Winchester the hunter, but John Winchester; young man, mechanic, war veteran, you've pushed from your mind."

Dean turned back and looked at God.

"You know I'm right," Chuck said. "Just as Mary now, who is Mary from back then, isn't the Mary of your memory."

"Okay, fine, they are not these people," Dean huffed. "Or maybe they are, but why are we here? Why am I seeing this?"

"Be patient," Chuck said and chuckled.

"Have you met me? That's not really my forte," Dean stated.

"We'll go in, I promise, and everything will make sense, but first I need you to notice something," Chuck said as he joined him at the window but looked back out at the street.

"What, the snow? We know it's snowing!" Dean said and then a man caught his eye as he stopped under a street lamp and stared at the house. "Who the hell is that?" He growled and moved to intercept.

"He can't see you Dean, no one can. This isn't your timeline. You're lovely and cozy inside your mother right now. You just get to bare witness to it all because I'm God and there is a reason why my angels can throw you back in time. Keep watching," Chuck said and followed Dean out into the street.

"Who is he?" Dean asked again as he circled the man.

"You'll see," Chuck said and watched.

Moments later another man appeared and slowly he sauntered toward the beam of light in a dark snowy street.

"Well isn't this just what your type is prone to?" The second man asked the first. "Heralding the saviour with harps and voices. _Hark the herald angels sing_... You look rather dull for a harbinger of good news and great joy."

"And you can't sing worth shit," the first man spoke.

"Not really what my type are known for," the second man laughed heartily.

"You know why I am here, but I am at a loss for singing you," the first man spoke in a voice that was low and husky.

"I do, I do indeed, and here is my message from your brother. The time we've all been waiting for is soon to be upon us, and we're rip roaring ready for it. Are you?"

"I am, as you see, but not yet," the first man spoke. "You go back and you tell my brother that I will be ready for the apocalypse and I will destroy him, as it is written so it shall be done."

"Nothing new in that speech," the second man chuckled. "But what is so important about this house? There isn't going to be a baby tonight."

"And Jesus was born in April, what's your point? Angels like this time of year. I come around often."

"No you don't, your kind hates it out of heaven. Who is this poor sap you're riding around in?"

"This is Nathaniel, and he's only temporary."

"Exactly my point. This is a pagan holiday, what the hell are you doing out of heaven," the second man asked and his eyes flashed yellow.

"I could ask you the same thing, vermin," the first said and his eyes flash a vibrant blue.

"Kill me now, and it could all be over," Azazel spoke playfully.

"That is not the plan, and you know it. And my wrath is not for you," Michael responded. "What brings you to this place?"

"A bloodline, but you already knew that," Azazel spoke again and watched the threats rise wordlessly into Michael's features. "Merry Christmas Michael, you're about to have a very happy New Year," he added and was gone.

"Filth," Michael grumbled under his breath and walked closer to the house. "You, child of the bloodline, you will be my sword," he spoke as he watched Mary and John together in the glow of their Christmas tree, and then a light descended upon the house for a brief but blessed moment and disappeared. So too did the Angel.

"What the hell did he just do to me?" Dean asked, having remained silently watching the events unfold.

"Blessed your house, your family, and the future of your being," Chuck answered. "Come, let's go inside and check out what kinds of gifts are already under that tree for you. You are very loved."

"No, I want to go back to the Bunker," Dean protested.

"But why, this is technically your first Christmas? There is so much more to see!" Chuck said excitedly. "If your mother went into labour tonight, you'd still be fine and alive and blessed, the timeline wouldn't change; give or take a month. But there is still so much more to see."

"But she didn't have me, and I came into the world a month later with a curse on my head. And it's all your fault," Dean accused. "Take me back to the bunker now! Let this be over. I've seen enough."

"You're not the first Wednesday child to say that to me," Chuck laughed

"What?" Dean questioned in confusion.

"Wednesday's child is full of woe," Chuck said. "You were born on a Wednesday."

"What does that have to do with Christmas?" Dean asked.

"Not a thing, but it has everything to do with you," Chuck said and chuckled. "Come on, come and enjoy this beautiful Sunday Christmas Eve with your parents and their very great expectations for the future," he added and motioned toward the door.

"No, I want to go back to the bunker, now!" Dean demanded.

"Fine," Chuck said and with a snap of his fingers Dean was back in his room and alone.


	3. Hit The Road John

_**A/N: Hello everyone, I'm so sorry about the delays. Things have been insane and they are not slowing down, and I should have worked on this way sooner. I am going to do my best in the next couple of weeks to put a large dent in this story. I'm putting most of my other works on hold and I will be focussing my attention on working on this. Sorry again for the delay.**_

Chapter 3: Hit The Road John

"Sam, wake up!" Dean demanded as he burst into Sam's room and woke his brother from a dead sleep.

"The Hell, Dean?" Sam grumbled as wakefulness took a minute to set in.

"We're leaving. Wheels up in ten!" Dean stated impatiently and left the room as abruptly as he'd entered it.

"Whoa, wait, I thought you said I get a night; one good solid eight hour of sleep before you drag me back out on the road. I'm not ready to go in ten minutes," Sam protested as he followed his brother into the overflowing bunker. "And I won't be ready in ten minutes!"

"I need to get outta here Sammy," Dean stated as he stopped in his tracks and backed up as people stopped to stare at him. "What the hell are you all doing awake, it's the middle of the night?" He practically cursed in his shocked and shaken state.

"We're on a rotation," one man answered.

"Dean, they have work to do!" Sam carried on. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm leaving in ten minutes, with or without you," Dean responded, turning his anger and anxiety on his brother. "Hold down the fort!" He ordered as the refugees from the other world look at Sam for clarification and direction.

"We've caught a case and we're hitting the road. You know what to do and how to reach me," Sam said as he followed his fleeing brother as, once again, Dean turned tail and ran. "Dean, stop!" He called after him.

"No, get ready, we're leaving," Dean said and slammed his door in Sam's face.

As he was ordered, Sam fell into the passenger side of the Impala twenty minutes after Dean's departure time. Dean was ready to go, his legs bounced nervously in his impatience as he sat in the silent car and waited. The moment Sam was next to him, he snapped out of his trance like state and the engine of the car roared to life.

Sam settled in for the drive knowing where they were going but not what the rush was.

The case in question popped up on their radar early the previous day and an antsy Dean jumped at it like it was a prize he'd won and no one else would take away from him. Mary was still off in Donna's cabin with Bobby, doing things he didn't want to imagine and he was trapped with a small army of people working to squash the supernatural out of this world. They were like something between the Men of Letters and a Hunter Commune, and Dean hated it. He wasn't completely against the idea, he just didn't like that they were stealing his jobs, living in his house, and filling Sam's head with way too much leadership and authority. In short, it was too many people all of the time, and yeah, he was a little jealous.

The case itself looked like a milk run, something to send the new trainees to, but Dean wanted it and wanted to be away. Unlike Sam, he was never really on board with giving up the hunters life for anything ever, and if all manner of the supernatural were eradicated, well, that would be bad for business. So Dean jumped at the milk runs and the vamp nests, and dragged Sam out of the bunker for sketchy motels and the open road.

A ghost in a christmas village, in a part of Minnesota that would bring the brothers near enough to Sioux Falls that if they wanted to see Jody and the girls, or Mary and Bobby, or even Donna, for Christmas they could make a surprise visit and drop in. It was also way up north were things would get chilly and crips, and feel more like Christmases that they remembered. On top of the convenience of their travel, two people were dead. The Christmas village was desperately trying to get to the bottom of thing for their busiest season, and mostly Dean wanted Sam to himself. He wanted a family Christmas with his brother because that was how their Christmases were spent for most of their lives.

Selfishly, that was his idea, and Dean had big plans for a quiet Christmas, until Chuck showed up and turn life on its head; again. Now he was on the run, and if he had to keep on running he'd damn well do it!

"So are you going to tell me what the rush is, or am I just here because you're having some kind of existential crisis?" Sam asked when at last Dean merged onto the deserted highway and headed north, grounding his teeth and sighing without realizing he was doing it as Sam watched him before speaking.

"I've got to work," Dean said gruffly. "And the drive is long enough. You go back to sleep, get your solid eight hours and I'll be fine."

"Like that's going to happen now. Was it a nightmare? Was it Michael? Are you remembering more of what happened? What kicked you in the ass to get you out of the bunker in such a panic?" Sam asked, calling Dean on his lies.

"I'm not in a panic!" Dean protested.

"Fine, put you into a heightened stated of paranoia and agitation?" Sam asked again, this time emphasizing his words so that Dean felt the sting of it.

"It was Chuck and I'm not paranoid," Dean said. "Agitated, I'll give you agitated."

"Chuck?" Sam asked in confusion. "What do you mean it was Chuck?"

"He woke me up to show me Christmas Eve 1978; Dickens style," Dean confessed.

"I hate Dickens," Sam grumbled. "He's an ass."

"Right?!" Dean cried to emphasis his displeasure.

"So we're running away so that he doesn't turn you into Ebenezer Scrooge?" Sam asked to gain further clarification.

"It might be too late for that but I don't need him lurking around the bunker, or having those people questioning me and my reactions to God just showing up to create his own christmas cards. I just want some peace and quiet, so we're driving and we're going to hunt," Dean answered.

"Those people are doing everything they can to fit in," Sam stated defensively. "And working their butts off to boot. You have to stop being so hard on them."

"Great, wonderful, when do we kick them out and take back our bunker?" Dean asked.

"The bunker was meant for an army of people fighting the supernatural, they belong there as much as we do," Sam protested. "And technically, we stole the bunker."

"It was gifted to us by our legacy grandfather!" Dean countered with his own argument. "And it was meant as a quiet library and place to study all that which man does not comprehend."

"Now you want to tow that company line?" Sam asked with a laugh.

"No, I'm making a point! Too many people in the bunker. It's not a secret anymore," Dean complained. "It's bad enough that the Men of Letter showed up and made a mess of the place, now we have a bunch of strangers training to take out jobs."

"So now that we are acting like the Men of Letters, you have a problem with us bringing in and training hunters to carry on?" Sam asked.

"We're hunters, not Men of Letter, those guys are dicks, and that's not the issue. My big problem is why did Chuck show me that Christmas Eve in 1978 when it's fricken Tuesday December 18th 2018?" Dean asked with frustration and emphasis for his displeasure.

"Did you ask him that?" Sam asked calmly.

"Not exactly," Dean grumbled but was truthful.

"What did you see?" Sam carried on in his line of questioning as he rolled his eyes at his brother but decided it would be better to try and help.

"Mom pregnant, as big as a house, and Dad happy, and Michael and Azazel meeting on the street in front of our house in Laurence," Dean answered.

"That's it?"

"Yeah, I demanded to be returned after the meeting," Dean explained.

"Did he want to show you more?" Same asked.

"Not the point Sammy! Azazel and Michael met on our street on Christmas Eve 1978. They were there because of me!"

"Well we knew that this was planned, and mom was just about ready to pop," Sam said. "But why does it matter now?"

"Ask Chuck," Dean grumbled as headlight appeared on the deserted highway, coming toward him.

"Don't you think you should have done that?" Sam asked as the car drew nearer and the headlights brighter and blinding.

"That car is coming right at us!" Dean stated and swerved onto the shoulder to avoid the head on collision. Dust flew into the air, the Impala fishtailed, and the brothers braced themselves for impact.

The car, exactly like the Impala, disappeared into thin air as it passed them so close that it should have hit, and then the darkness returned to the deserted stretch of highway.

"Did you see that?" Sam asked in shock. "It was Dad!"


	4. Life Is A Highway

Chapter 4: Life Is A Highway

Throwing open his door, without responding to his brother, Dean raced out of the car and into the middle of the street.

"What the hell?" He yelled at the sky as the wind swept past him and a chill caused him to shiver slightly but become even more defensive.

"Hey boys," John Winchester spoke as he stood in the road.

"Dad?" Sam gasped.

"Hi Sammy," John smiled, his eye proud, his stature tall and authoritative. "Hello Dean," he added and looked to his eldest son.

"This is Chuck's doing, that is not Dad," Dean stated angrily as he rushed at the man before them and before he could punch through the apparition to prove his point, John reached out and caught Dean's fist, blocking the attack and forcing Dean into a much more submissive position before releasing him. Dean stumbled back, in shock, and stared at his father; alive and tangible.

"Getting a little rusty there Dean," John said. "Stance, elbows, and rotate that arm."

"Dad?" Dean asked in confusion.

"Yeah, it's me Dean," John said.

In all his anxiety, his shock and his stress, Dean reached out and embraced his father, releasing something of the fear and the confusion that had grasped him. There was no hesitation now, but in a moment he would recover his instincts and step back suspiciously.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked as he stepped toward them.

"Dean's not all together wrong. This is Chuck doing, or God as I know him. He said something about his sister giving you back your mother and that he needed my help with regards to you boys," John answered.

"It's really you?" Sam asked.

"Yeah Sammy, it's me, but I don't get to stay. I don't want to stay," John said. "Let's be honest and upfront about it. I wont stay."

"What do you mean you don't want to stay?" Dean asked indignantly, "We're fighting a war. We need you!"

"No you don't, I've been dead for 13 years and you've managed just fine. I'm sure your mother is moving on in her new life after being dead twice as long. Sure I wasn't the best husband, and I'm sure things would be completely different now that I am what I am. And I know what she is, and that she kept that from me all those years. Imagine what our life would have been if we all just knew and were honest with one another," John said. "I'm here for Christmas and then I'm going back to where Chuck had me."

"Heaven?" Dean asked but there was disgust and accusation in his tone.

"Not exactly," John laughed. "I mean for a little while but with the way thing were going, the rise and fall of the arch angels, and Lucifer out in the world, they needed to put me somewhere where those beings couldn't get in the way of the plan. I've been somewhere else and I have a life there now."

"The plan?" Dean asked and this time the disgust was even more obvious. "Since when do you tow the company line?" He accused.

"So that's where you get it from," Sam commented with a roll of his eye.

"I'm not here to fight with you Dean, I'm here to help you find answers, and maybe explain a little along the way," John said and Dean took a step back.

"You're my Marley," Dean said and shook his head. "Fuck you Chuck!" He turned and yelled at the sky. "I don't need a Jacob Marley. I don't need a story. I just need to be for a while. Is that too much to ask?" He carried on in his exasperation.

"Should I be concerned?" John asked as he looked to Sam for clarification.

"Dean's been through a lot and now Chuck is trying to pull him back to his beginning," Sam said and shrugged. "He just wants to hunt. And not take a stroll down memory lane. I don't really blame him. We've lived through this once, so what Chuck could possibly show us is beyond me. But you standing here in the middle of a highway, must make it important."

"Then let's hunt and let this play out for us," John said. "Come on Dean, get in the car," he added and held out his hands for the keys.

"I'm driving," Dean said with a shake of his head. "That is my car. This is my world. And this is my hunt," he added and walked past his father and his brother.

"What does he mean by his world?" John asked as he and Sam stayed in their places.

"A lot has happened since you died," Sam said and sighed. "Most recently Dean said yes to Michael from another world and finally ended Lucifer here in this one. And then Michael broke their deal and took Dean for a joyride. I mean, I know what it's like to have an arch angel rummaging around in my head and not being able to let it go, so I'm not expecting Dean to just be all right, but he on edge and being a little...well...you right now."

"I'm not going to take that the way I want to take that," John said and took a deep breath. "I know you have an idea of what I am like, but I've changed."

"You've been dead for 13 years, we've all changed," Sam commented and shrugged. "And it wasn't really meant as an insult, I just mean that Dean is bottled up in his own mind and aggressive; it's very similar to John Winchester circa 2005."

"I get it," John nodded.

"So, yeah, he's very guarded right now, and it doesn't help that we are trying to settle a whole group of refugees from another world, mom is off with doing her own thing, and now here you are."

"I guess I do have a lot to catch up on," John said and it was clear that Sam had place upon him a revelation that he had not fathomed.

"What do you know?" Sam asked.

"I know that Dean killed Azazel and a hell's gate was opened, and that we are a bloodline that was mean to be," John said.

"Oh Dad, there is so much you don't know," Sam said.

"Is that why Dean is on this ghost of christmas passed trip?" John asked.

"Yes, and we're going all the way back to Christmas Eve 1978," Chuck said as he appeared out of thin air.

"No!" Dean yelled as he rushed back from the car. "We are not doing this. We are going to Minnesota."

"This isn't just your story anymore Dean. It's now up to all the Winchester boys to decide. Majority rules, revelations for all, and a merry little romp through what was, is, and could be," Chuck said and smiled as he bounced on the balls of his feet. "So what do you say?"

"What is all this business with Michael?" John asked as he looked to his eldest son.

"It doesn't matter, you're not staying," Dean said, "So there's nothing you can do to help."

"I'm here now, and we're going to 1978," John said and his voice was an authoritative tone that Dean had not heard in years.

"Fine," Dean huffed. "Take us back to 1978."

"Let the Christmas Carol begin!" Chuck said and with a snap of his fingers the highway was gone and the snowy night in Laurence returned.


	5. If I Could Turn Back Time

Chapter 5: If I Could Turn Back Time

As the realization set in, and the Winchesters became aware of the familiar surroundings, different things started to stand out at them. The tree beside the house wasn't nearly as large as it had been. The driveway was newer and well kept. The house on the corner wasn't even build yet.

Chuck walked around, separate from the Winchesters as they explored, but still within the tableau of the world he was showing off.

The snowflakes fells slowly, the lamp light glistened in the street, and the house that a much younger John shared with his new wife Mary blended in to the quiet suburban life that she had always wanted. The Impala had traveled with them, and so, for the first time Baby was parked on the street in front of the house and in the driveway as well, and somehow Dean could feel which was his and which was his father's.

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" Chuck asked to pull the attention back to himself. "There were many like this, I imagine, in those early day in Laurence. Dean's first snow angels, knowing in December of 1982 that Sam would make a screaming entrance into this world and that little Dean wished for nothing more than a brother in the new year, didn't you Dean?" He asked.

"I don't remember that," Dean stated harshly and with a little embarrassment.

"Sure you do. You asked Santa, at the mall, that year for a toy truck and for momma to have a baby boy because girls were gross," John countered. "At least I remember that."

"What else do you remember, John?" Chuck asked.

"I remember coming home early from work and Mary being rubbish at wrapping gifts but trying her best, as pregnant as she was; both times. I did all the heavy lifting. Sometimes I wondered why Mary was so bad at being domestic but so determined to do it."

"Why do we need to know that?" Dean asked impatiently.

"Because it was the way things were meant to be on those Christmases," Chuck said. "You had 3 of them as an only child, Dean, and that fourth one was spent in excitement because your parents hadn't told you until that season. You were more impatient than your father about the prospects of another baby, or at least that's how John felt."

"Yeah it was," John laughed. "You were so excited, Dean. You wanted to know everything about babies, and I mean everything, at five. That christmas in the mall you'd walk up to perfect strangers and tell them you were going to have a baby brother, even though we didn't know it was a boy, and then you'd ask all kinds of questions of people with babies. I'm sure you freaked a bunch of them out."

"I had no idea you were so excited," Sam said and smiled at his brother.

"It's all he really wanted," Chuck added. "And Dean has always been so devoted and proud of you Sam."

"That's not news," Dean said and rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows it, and everyone takes of advantage of it."

"It was meant to be this way, but in those early days, before you knew what it meant to be a hunter, you were like so many other little children dreaming of their siblings," Chuck said. "And that was the point. Your father was an only child, so was your mother, but that was never going to be the way for you. Sam and Dean Winchester; it was meant to be."

"Yeah, I know, and Michael and Azazel were meant to meet on the street," Dean retorted with anger and frustration. "Just like mom was meant to make a deal to save dad, the night that Samuel died, and Sammy was cursed. She dies on the ceiling on fire, and we headed down a path of everything that leads us to this, the Men of Letters, and entertaining God's whims on a night that isn't even Christmas yet. We get it! It was all meant to be!"

"A demon deal?" John asked.

"Sure, but you didn't remember it. Azazel snapped your neck and stabbed Grand-dad, and then made a deal with mom to save one of you and all she had to do was let Azazel visit 6 months after Sam was born. That night she died, she knew it was coming," Dean huffed.

"She didn't remember it either," Chuck said and shook his head. "Not all of it at least. She was too happy with her boys and worried about her marriage to worry too much about something that happened years before. I mean she'd almost forgotten what it was like to be a hunter," he added. "Although, in that tumultuous time of arguing and doubt, she went back to it."

"What pulled her back?" Sam asked.

"I realized what I was doing. How unhappy I was making her," John said. "That's kinda how she got pregnant again, and why it took so long between you and Sam."

"Five years isn't that long," Dean said and shrugged.

"Most people do it in two," Chuck said. "They want their babies to be close enough in age to one another that they get it out of the way. Also, pregnancy isn't really fun, and most women don't have a good time of it. They try to get it over with."

"Also your fault?" Dean accused.

"Well, it was a moment a wrath. I can have a bit of a temper, but I have mellowed out a lot in the last million years or so," Chuck answered.

"You're an ass," Dean stated and walked off toward the house.

"Come back, we're not done. We have so much still to get caught up on. The Men of Letters, the Mark of Cane, the Leviathan, and travels to other worlds. John needs to be caught up before we dive into the past."

"Men of Letters?" John asked in an aside to his second son.

"Long story," Sam said.

"Tell it Sam and get it over with," Dean said. "Henry Winchester didn't just disappear in August of 1958, he jumped through time and died in 2013. He never abandoned you, he was trying to save the world."

"What?" John asked in shock.

"Your father was a member of a secret organization known as the Men of Letters. He learned his craft from his father and his father before him. It is a legacy. They are preceptors, observers, beholders, chroniclers of the supernatural and all that which man does not understand," Sam began his speech.

"So hunters?" John asked. "I was supposed to be a hunter?"

"No, not exactly. They were more like librarians. We get the hunter gene from mom. The Campbells are a generations old hunting family," Sam corrected. "The Men of Letter have chapters all over the world but the American branch was eradicated by Abaddon in 1958. They use hunters when they need them, but for the most part, they use magic and sorcery to combat the supernatural."

"Who is Abaddon?" John asked in confusion.

"A knight of hell, created by Cane," Dean blurted out his answer.

"Azazel was a prince of hell, they were created by Lucifer," Sam added.

"They?" John asked.

"There were four of them. They are all dead now, thanks to your boys, and all the knights of hell are gone too. Dean killed Abaddon," Chuck jumped in. "Took on the Mark of Cane; tricked into it rather but the King of the Crossroads, later the king of Hell Crowley. He then released the Darkness onto this world when Sam, Castiel, Charlie, and Rowena broke the code in the Book of the Damned. The Darkness is my sister, Amara, and we are now on good terms because of Dean. So you know, all worked out for the best."

"Well in this world at least," Dean huffed.

"Right, there is that," Chuck chuckled.

"So I should have been a member of the Men of Letters?" John asked.

"Yes, and technically, as your son's have resurrected the practice, or maybe redefined it in this time, you would be one now," Chuck said.

"No, the Men of Letters are assholes and dicks and can stay in their own countries. We are not that, we are hunters with an expanded knowledge of all things supernatural, but at the core we're just hunters. And we do have a hunt to get back to, so can we get through Christmas Eve 1978 and off to Minnesota?" Dean jumped in to bring things back around to where they needed to be. "You wanted me to go inside. So let's go inside."

"Now hang on a second, Michael and Azazel haven't had their meeting yet," Chuck said and motioned to the trench coat clad, newsboy capped, Angel coming down the street at a sauntered pace.

"Old news, Chuck. I've already seen this bit," Dean said and walked off toward the house.

"But we haven't," Sam said and stayed in place.

The scene played out before Sam and John as Dean had told his brother it would. The conversation, the beam of light, and the flight of both supernatural beings. And then John and Sam walked up the drive to where Dean was waiting.

"So who's vessel am I?" John asked as they stopped in front of the door. "I have no brothers, only sons, but if it's a bloodline, how does that work?"

"That is a good question John, and the answer is this, technically you could act as vessel to all archangels, but none of them really, because it is not your time, nor your place. The man you saw under the lamp light, was in fact a cousin of Mary's and only a temporary vessel for the angel to be on this earth. As Sam and Dean could tell you, you have taken on the archangel Michael once in your history and you do not remember it," Chuck explained.

"It was another time jump," Sam said.

"So you do this often?" John asked sceptically.

"More often than we would like," Dean sighed in response and rolled his eyes.

"Okay, I can wrap my head around that, but why Sam and Dean?" John asked.

"Because it was the predestined time," Chuck answered.

"Then why would Azazel put us through the trials?" Sam asked. "Why were there so many children like me?"

"That was Lucifer's plan, which was my plan but I knew he'd try and go against me, so no one really knew about that plan, not even Metatron. I knew that John would sacrifice himself for Dean, and Dean for you, and you for Dean."

"Wait, what?" Dean asked. "Sammy?"

"Sam has put everything, and I mean everything, out on the line to save you from Michael," Chuck said. "That's why you should have let the poor guy sleep."

"Sam?" Dean asked again.

"It wasn't a deal, and it wasn't death," Sam said. "But it was...everything."

"It was death," Chuck said. "The vamps in the cave, you were dead."

"And Lucifer saved me," Sam said. "I didn't sell my soul, or make a deal."

"You walked into camp with Lucifer," Dean said.

"I didn't ask to come back," Sam protested. "He told me he was coming."

"You never do, because you don't have to. It's implied Samuel, and if it came to it, you would do anything, including ask for the deal. You just haven't had to speak the words because your job isn't done and I need you here. Your stint in hell was also the sacrifice you made for Dean."

"It was the only way to put Lucifer back in the cage and end the apocalypse," Sam said.

"Yes, a path that began this night, on this spot, with that light and this family. The night the vessels were chosen for Michael and Lucifer. You say you did it for the greater good, but your scope only goes as far as Dean," Chuck spoke with finality.

"But Azazel made a deal with mom to save dad in 1973. Sam's fate was sealed then!" Dean countered.

"Azazel, knew nothing of my plan," Chuck corrected. "And had gathered many deals to visit babies in the hopes that one of them would turn out to be the vessel of Lucifer in the coming apocalypse. What he didn't know what that the end of the apocalypse would be by brothers, and so Michael was only told of the future in a vision that I placed upon him."

"Then why was Azazel here tonight?" Dean asked.

"Because the princes of hell; Azazel, Ramiel, Dagon and Asmodeus were tasked by Lucifer to watch his brothers. Azazel was the oldest and so he was paired with Michael, and any time that angel found himself on earth, Azazel felt him and went to him to torment him."

"There are four archangels and four princes of hell, but Lucifer was always in the cage," Sam said to question the word of God.

"Asmodeus was tasked with remaining near to his angel at all time, he did not leave hell until the cage was opened on the night Azazel was killed by Dean. Lucifer knew that he would be freed and Asmodeus was now the angel in charge of Michael, while Lilith worked to free Lucifer," Chuck explained. "Dagon was paired with Gabriel, that's why she was always so mad, he knows very well how to keep himself hidden from everything supernatural. I admire that. And Raphael was Ramiel's responsibility. I think Lucifer did that for the alliteration, but you killed Raphael so early that he was able to live out his life in a quiet way without orders."

"Wait, Gabriel is dead," Dean said.

"Is he?" Chuck asked and winked.

"For fuck sakes," Dean cursed. "What else don't we know?"

"Oh, so many things," Chuck said. "And you'll never know them all, but this christmas you will come to know many revelations."

"Can we get it over with then?" Dean asked.

"Well I suppose it is time to go inside," Chuck said.

"But I'm still confused," John said.

"Things will make themselves clear, but first, it is time to take you back to the happiest time of your life," Chuck said as they moved toward the house and he opened the door to let the Winchesters pass through it.


	6. Angel Of Thursdays

_**A/N: I have come to realize that there is no way I am going to finish this story by christmas, or that it's going to track the way I had initially intended. Moral of the story is that I should know better and cannot write short stories. That being said, I am going to work diligently to get a few more chapters up this holiday season and make sure that it remains in my update rotation once things settle down. So enjoy!**_

Chapter 6: Angel of Thursdays

Once in the house, John lead the way into a small dining area where Mary stood rubbing her belly and contemplating the wrapping papers before her.

"She looks incredible," John said as his younger self stepped up to her and wrapped an arm around her.

"They can't see any of us, you cannot interact with them," Chuck said as John moved closed.

"You don't have to do this tonight," Young John said to his pregnant wife.

"When will it get done?" She asked and giggled.

"He's still inside you, christmas will be over. Are they technically christmas gifts if the baby isn't even born yet?"

"Yes they are," she said. "And what if it's a girl?" She asked. "You keep calling it, him."

"It's a boy, I can feel it."

"Here," she said and took his hand and placed it on a spot on her belly, "now you can feel it, and it could be a girl."

"If it is, will you change your mind?" He asked lovingly.

"Dean, if it's a boy. Deana is it's a girl. You agreed," she said.

"After your mother, yes, I agreed," he said and kissed her.

"You really didn't know?" Dean asked his father.

"No, and we agreed that we wanted to be surprised. And when she was pregnant with Sam, you were so sure it was a boy. She accused me of filling your head with the idea, but honestly, and this isn't meant as an insult against you Sam, but I wanted you to be a girl. I wouldn't admit it then, but I really did."

"He really did," Chuck said.

"So why wasn't I?" Sam asked.

"I needed you to be brothers," Chuck said. "And John changed his mind when you were born because Dean was so excited."

"Yeah I did," John laughed.

"So why didn't you name me after your father, or your mother; if mom got Dean?" Sam asked.

"Had you been a girl, your name would have been Millie, or rather Emily, after my mother. I was too angry with my father to call you Henry, and Mary knew that. And, even though Samuel Campbell didn't approve of me, I like him."

"He's an ass," Dean huffed.

"Time jumps; you've met your grandfather?" John asked.

"Both of them, though Samuel was brought back from the dead by Crowley," Sam answered.

"Who is this Crowley?"

"A demon," Dean said. "And we have an angel too, his name is Castiel."

"Crowley was a cross roads demon. He held the deal that Dean made to save my life," Sam explained. "And then he became useful, and the king of hell, who figured that Lucifer in the cage was better than Lucifer out of the cage, and useful put a wedge in our plans to just kill him. He'd dead now."

"Is he?" Chuck asked.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Isn't he?" Sam asked.

"When I'm involved, is anyone really dead?" Chuck asked.

"You can keep him dead," Sam said.

"For now," Chuck chuckled. "But can you please pay attention to your younger parents?"

Turning back to Mary and John, the Winchesters fell silent and watched.

"Imagine if it happened today?" Mary said. "We could have a miracle baby, born on Christmas Day. What would that mean for us?" She asked.

"Oh God, please no, how unfair is sharing a birthday with Jesus?" Young John laughed.

"You know that the establishment of Christianity stole the day from the pagans, Jesus was likely born in April," Mary countered.

"You would know that," Young John chuckled. "Full of this knowledge, where does it come from?" He asked.

"Oh you know, I'm just really astute," she lied.

"That's why I love you," he added and turned back to the wrapping. "So, we should get this done in the event that you do go into labour for Christmas."

"Yes, but I don't think it's going to happen tonight," she said and sighed as she rubbed at her belly again. "He's just not quite ready."

"Now who's making assumptions?" John accused.

"You are the one who is so sure it's a boy," She countered.

"You tell her Dean, say momma, dad is right," John said as he knelt down and spoke to her belly. "The one time that I will be correct."

"The one and only time," Mary said and all at once the scene before them failed.

"What the hell Chuck?" Dean asked.

"There is more to see," Chuck said.

"Why did we have to see that?" Dean retorted.

"Because, it's important," Chuck said and lead the way back out into the street.

As they exited the house, there on the street staring up at the place was another being. Chuck walked ahead of them, stepped up to the person and stopped.

"The boy child will be your responsibility Castiel," Chuck said.

"Yes father," The angel replied.

"Watch over him," Chuck said.

"I will," the angel replied and Chuck came back to where the Winchesters stood.

"I thought you said that we couldn't interact with anyone," Dean commented.

"You can't, but I can," Chuck chuckled. "You needed to know that aside for the angel and demon that came upon this place, the guardians were given a guardian, in one of my most trusted angels. Castiel is the angel of Thursday's, he's also a angel of Saturn and the angel that presides over the death of kings. You two were born unto this world as kings, though none of creation knew except for me, and Castiel."

"Dean was born on a Wednesday..." John commented.

"That's basically day zero, technically day one for Dean was Thursday January 25th. It all happened according to a plan, and because he was placed in charge of Dean, he would watch over Sam as well. I came to him on May 3rd 1983, in the same way, to tell him to protect Sam as he protects Dean, but that there would be events that he was forbidden to interfere with because of the prophecies."

"So he's always been with us?" Sam asked.

"More or less, yes," Chuck said. "And he has done his duty valiantly. It is why he always comes back."

"But why didn't he tell us that?" Dean asked.

"Because I'm God and up until the whole Darkness debacle, he didn't know my face as this face even though I have appeared like this before him on many occasions. Castiel is the only angel whom I visit regularity, and who has heard my word more than Metatron. But he does not remember it. He only thinks they are orders from heaven, and no matter how hard he tries to turn off his angel radio, he will always hear me," Chuck explained.

"Makes sense," Sam nodded.

"Sure, if you mean because he's God so he can do anything," Dean huffed. "Why did I need to see this?"

"Oh Dean, I hope this will become clear to you," Chuck sighed.

"You could just tell me."

"And have you fight it?" Chuck asked. "That's not the point, the point is that you need to realize it for yourself. And what I have to say and share tonight is done. So back to the road and your journey to Minnesota," he finished and with a snap of his fingers Sam, Dean and John were back on the side of the deserted highway with the Impala on the dirt shoulder.


End file.
